Yo La Tengo – I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One – A review by Joshua Reedy

Yo La Tengo review by Josh Reedy.

Yo La Tengo – I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One

(1997)

My copy: 2015 reissue by Matador.

Though most people preferred the other 1997 album to prominently feature a major highway on its cover, I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One is still widely regarded as one of the best indie-rock albums to release in what is considered to be a huge year for the genre. Just as Ok Computer’s pale blue metropolis reflects the album’s often cold tone, Yo La Tengo’s warm orange and red are indicative of a much slower, sweeter offering. While both albums are iconic to alternative fans, they are both assuredly overrated – that’s not to say that either are bad, (Yo La Tengo’s ‘97 offering actually feels more honest by leagues) rather they have obvious shortcomings that are overlooked by the majority. In Yo La Tengo’s case, the album’s sleepy pace begins to hinder the album given its length.

Instantly with “Return To Hot Chicken” the warmth of the production style wraps about like a hug with gentle guitar melodies and brushed drums. “Moby Octopad” ups the stakes a bit with a tenacious bassline, though everything is made to feel non-threatening. Borrowing a few melodies from a 1966 film, “Moby Octopad” unleashes ghostly textural guitar with sassy piano scales. The mission statement feels clear now: Yo La Tengo’s brand of shoegaze is dialed in with precise manipulation of noise in order to maintain an expert balance. The band’s philosophy is further demonstrated in the churning guitars of “Sugarcube,” which never become abrasive enough to overwhelm the catchy vocal melodies. Shaker is used frequently to elevate the simple rhythms.

Poking staccato bass guides “Damage” through a maze of cleverly controlled feedback – the noise is kept within grasp of the other instruments, turning what is normally an agent of chaos into a caressing fuzz. The sedated vocal whispering continues on “Deeper Into Movies” where they are almost totally drowned by the rising volume of the rhythm section and distorted guitar lines. “Shadows” displays some writing chops, as vocals duel with dissonant chord shifts until a horn passage adds triumph to the collection of moods. “Stockholm Syndrome” picks up the tempo a bit with a more ambitious vocal melody, though the accusatory sound is dropped for the cathartic choruses. The booming kick drum of “Autumn Sweater” does well to keep you from noticing a lack of bass, until the instrument returns with sharp, pulsing riffs that strategically lift the song. This track marks another indie band taken by some strange obsession with hand percussion, while it sort of worked on “Shadows,” here it is only gaudy.

“Little Honda” is a wonderfully fun rendition of the Beach Boys track of the same name, though here the guitars are dialed up to 11 and room is made for a droning instrumental section. The summer night ambiance of “Green Arrow” is accompanied by somber slide guitar and some quiet slowcore/post-rock type guitar abuse, though the track lingers for far too long. Alt-country is targeted on “One PM Again” complete pedal steel guitar, a soft cowboy impression and swung rhythms. “The Lie And How We Told It” is just a more boring version of the previous track and could be removed entirely. “Center Of Gravity” feels like a cheeky satire of coffeehouse singer-songwriter music given its cutesy, call-and-response harmonies and inoffensive acoustic progression.

The next two tracks are longer jam sessions, with “Spec Bebop” topping out around ten minutes; it’s lo-fi drone landing somewhere between perfectly lulling and obnoxiously repetitive. Really the album’s issue boils down to a combination of its indulgent length and consistently tender atmosphere, which leads to boredom near the end. “We’re An American Band” boasts a fun buildup of intense soloing and noisy, tearing guitar layers though you have to sit through the first four or so minutes to reach it. The record concludes with a cute pop ballad fit for a children’s cartoon series, though Yo La Tengo’s commitment to their charm is legitimately wholesome.

I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One simultaneously suffers and thrives within its core gimmick – meaning the album’s consistent sleepy and warm production help keep it unique at the cost of long term retention. Some tracks are just totally lost in the ether until you’ve heard the album a dozen times, and even then does anyone seriously tote “The Lie And How We Told It” as their favorite song (sorry to the four of you out there)? Criticism aside, this is an album that will fill you with a genuine sense of warmth when the cozy mixing choices fully click with you. While they are often compared to other shoegazing bands, I find this record to have much more in common with slowcore, albeit a much gentler offshoot. It may not be the most famous record with a highway on the cover, but if you know what you’re tuning in to, it can easily sway your heart in its favor.

Yo La Tengo.